


I keep the wolf at the door

by havisham



Category: Luther (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-24
Updated: 2011-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havisham/pseuds/havisham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wore the red hood and she was the wolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I keep the wolf at the door

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Не пускай волков в дом](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082214) by [leoriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoriel/pseuds/leoriel)



Once upon a time, there were more trees in England than people. The forest was deep and dark and there were only a scattering of villages and towns, only weak, little lights to stave off the great darkness. In those times, people stayed snug in their houses, and locked their doors tight.

There were wolves outside.

In that time, there was a little girl. She had long red hair, and her skin was as pale as alabaster. She lived in a stone house filled with books, with her mother and her father, and her dog, whose name meant _Faithful._

One day, the little girl was wandering through the woods, her black leather boots making a satisfying crunch on the fallen leaves. She was not thinking of very much when a raven fluttered down and perched on her skinny shoulder.

It croaked in her ear, “ _Caw! Ka-ka-K_ ill! Fly, fledgling.”

And she laughed, for even those days, it was unusual for an animal to speak.

The raven flew off, its shiny black wings a blur against the gray sky.

She wrapped herself deeper into her blood red cloak and breathed in the cold air.

*

She was an an orphan, a poor lonely soul, with no one in the world to care for her. It was a pity, it was a shame. Her parents were killed by wolves, their slaughtered corpses found still tucked into their bed. The monsters did not even spare the family dog.

Fido was found in a pool of his own blood, staining the hearthstone dark red.

The girl - no, the woman - watched as they brought the bodies out. She had fever-bright eyes, untouched by any shade of grief. She caught the huntsman’s eye, she did not blink.

The huntsman wanted to question her — could wolves really have unlatched the doors and crept up the stairs — oh so quietly? Could they have slit throats oh so neatly?

But that wasn’t his job, and so he allowed himself to be pulled away. The king wished his woods to be clear of dangerous beasts, but nothing was said of dangerous people. Dangerous women, with eyes too knowing to be innocent... Not yet, anyway.

Reed watched him, weariness etched on his face. “Wolves now, John.”

“Yes,” he agreed, finally. “Wolves.”

*  
Clues piled up, and days went by in a soggy blur. Stiff and aching from his long search, he found himself in a clearing in the woods. The witch’s cottage was ahead of him. There was no smoke from the chimney, though the hour grew late.

The old woman who lived there was said to be a witch, but she wasn’t. She was only half-blind and half-mad from loneliness. There was a curious tale about her, though most people didn't care to know it.

He broke in the door, and the choking dust made him cough and his lungs ache.

He called out, but there was nothing but silence to greet him.

He crept up the stairs and found —

Well, the old woman dead — which was not surprising.

He found the young woman still here, which was. _Which was_. Her red cloak was stiff with another’s blood.

“ _Alice_.”

She turned and gave him a wolfish grin.

*

Later, he came stumbling back to the cottage, where Reed was waiting for him.

“Another one?” he asked, his face shadowed.

The huntsman nodded.

“She got away.”

“ _She?_ ”

Reed looked at the stains on the huntsman’s coat, the scratches on his throat.

The huntsman was trembling.

Reed, who had long coveted the huntsman’s wife, stored this knowledge away.

 

For the future.

 **End**.


End file.
